San Jose, San Francisco Bay Area.
It was already December 20. In the Willow Glen neighborhood south of downtown San Jose, principal photography on The Sixth Sense had begun on December 12.
The original story took place in Philadelphia on the East Coast, a city Simon had never visited in this body. San Jose, however, held too many memories for him, so he relocated the setting here.
He had flown in from Los Angeles the previous morning, ostensibly to visit the set but also to stop by several tech companies in which Westeros Cooperation held stakes.
This was his first return to the place where he had grown up since rising to prominence, and both local media and government officials were visibly thrilled. Contrary to expectations, however, Simon scheduled no public appearances or nostalgic tours; he spent nearly all his time working.
Throughout December, the press had obsessed over exactly how much money Daenerys Entertainment had made that year. Even the most conservative estimates were enough to make most Hollywood studios envious.
Having inherited this life, Simon could not entirely escape its past.
Before leaving San Jose, Pat Kingsley announced that the Simon & Janet Westeros Foundation would donate Ten million dollars to several local schools and welfare organizations. The sum was trivial relative to his current wealth, but the gesture silenced any media criticism that he was indifferent to his roots.
Back in Los Angeles, Simon began a final run-through of Batman's storyline.
Over the past months, he and the hired storyboard artists had produced more than two thousand concept drawings and rough boards. Key sequences had even received short reference animations. After such extensive preparation, the entire film existed complete in Simon's mind; the remaining task was simply to commit it to celluloid.
Batman would not open until the following year. In recent days, the industry's attention had fixated on Rain Man's ongoing reversal of fortune.
After a soft $2.1 million Friday, the film had surprised everyone with a $7.28 million three-day weekend. Weekday daily grosses near one million continued to defy expectations.
Sensing something unusual, Daenerys immediately commissioned direct audience surveys.
Of one thousand respondents across major North American cities, 36 percent cited recommendations from friends or family as their reason for attending, while 91 percent said they would recommend the film to others.
Those two figures alone convinced veterans Amy Pascal and Robert Reme that Rain Man was generating a rare, genuine word-of-mouth phenomenon.
Last year's Run Lola Run had become an "event film" largely through Simon's age gimmick, media hype, and public curiosity. Rain Man, by contrast, was drawing crowds purely on the strength of its content.
Though its ultimate trajectory remained uncertain, whether it would escalate into a full cultural phenomenon at minimum, it would not flop as widely predicted.
As word of mouth spread further, many outlets previously swayed by CAA began publishing strongly positive reviews.
Amid a tangle of anticipation, doubt, and apprehension, the new weekly box-office numbers arrived on December 23.
Universal's unexpected hit Twins held the top spot for a second week with $12.17 million.
Immediately behind it was Rain Man.
Its full opening week settled at $11.65 million nearly 50 percent above the projected $8 million. For a film few had believed in, that start, combined with swelling buzz, suddenly made a $100 million domestic total seem plausible.
Elsewhere on the chart, Daenerys titles Steel Magnolias and Scream added $7.66 million and $5.73 million respectively, landing fourth and fifth.
In its second week of limited release, Dead Poets Society followed last week's $1.63 million with $2.08 million, pushing its preview cumulative to $3.71 million.
The film expanded wide this week to 1,693 screens more than Universal rushed into for Twins (1,621), and with two weeks of built-up acclaim, few doubted it would claim the Christmas frame crown.
Three other films joined it in wide release: Disney's 2D animated Oliver & Company (adapted from Dickens), Fox's awards-nominated but critically middling Working Girl, and MGM's My Stepmother Is an Alien the project they had taken from Columbia after dropping Rain Man.
Compared to Dead Poets Society's 1,693 screens, the newcomers opened smaller: Oliver & Company on 952, Working Girl on 1,051, and My Stepmother Is an Alien on 1,106.
Like Twins, Steel Magnolias expanded again thanks to sturdy holds, reaching 1,613 screens and becoming the third Christmas release to surpass 1,600.
Perhaps because earlier months had been unusually quiet for the season, the arrival of Christmas triggered an explosive market surge.
Four major wide openers arrived, yet many holdovers posted strong rebounds.
Some celebrated; others mourned.
Ever since Rain Man began its turnaround, MGM executives had been gripped by acute unease.
The $11.65 million opening week had been painful but bearable. When the Christmas frame numbers landed, however, United Artists chairman Tony Thomopoulos feared for his job.
December 30: Christmas week box office announced.
The market leaped 68 percent from last week's $73.19 million to $122.36 million.
Dead Poets Society, riding two weeks of previews and the largest screen count, delivered an expected $19.01 million to claim the weekly crown, pushing its cumulative to $122.72 million.
Another Daenerys 1988 title had clearly entered the $100 million club.
Yet while that result was anticipated, the week's true shock was Rain Man.
In its second frame, still on only 1,136 screens, the film now undeniably a phenomenon soared 45 percent to $16.67 million.
Even films enjoying holiday bumps could not match that gain: Twins rose 18 percent, Steel Magnolias 25 percent (aided by its expansion to 1,613 screens).
Because of differing bases, Twins earned $13.67 million this week, Steel Magnolias $9.21 million.
Rain Man, without adding screens, jumped from $11.65 million to $16.67 million a 45 percent increase. After two weeks, a movie many had pegged for perhaps $20 million total now stood at $28.32 million.
The numbers confirmed that all seven films released by Daenerys Entertainment in 1988 had crossed $100 million domestically an unprecedented clean sweep.
Naturally, the horror-comedy inherited from New World was conveniently ignored.
By comparison, MGM's My Stepmother Is an Alien the title they had swapped in for Rain Man collapsed critically upon release and vanished amid the holiday boom.
Its opening week yielded a mere $3.81 million against a $20 million budget.
When the press noticed, MGM received only ridicule.
Trading the seemingly doomed Rain Man for a sci-fi family comedy had appeared shrewd on paper: the latter seemed far better suited to Christmas than a quirky road movie about two odd brothers.
Though Columbia had disliked it in test screenings, MGM executives believed it would surely outperform Rain Man.
Reality proved harsher.
At 55 percent theater split, My Stepmother Is an Alien returned roughly $2.09 million to MGM for the week.
Had they retained Rain Man's original 15 percent distribution fee, two weeks at $28.32 million would have yielded $4.25 million already nearing the $5 million they received for selling the rights.
Rumor had it that shortly after Christmas, owner Kirk Kerkorian flew in from Las Vegas and berated MGM's top brass.
Reports followed that MGM intended to sue Daenerys over contract loopholes, but the threat went nowhere. Daenerys was unlikely to have left exploitable gaps, and the financially weakened MGM could scarcely afford litigation against a thriving rival.
Beyond MGM's regret, the most conflicted parties were CAA's principal clients on the film.
As Rain Man's upward trajectory solidified, Barry Levinson, Dustin Hoffman, and Tom Cruise became constant paparazzi targets.
Their earlier dismissals were still fresh; now photographers loved chasing them for comment.
Levinson tried vanishing entirely, but the press was relentless. After only two days off the grid over Christmas, he was tracked to Tokyo.
Hoffman, who had been "vacationing" in Britain, attempted to claim partial credit for the success and earned only sharper mockery.
The harassment even disrupted Cruise's Born on the Fourth of July shoot; Oliver Stone eventually halted production, and Cruise spent most of the holidays holed up in his Los Angeles mansion.
His agent, Paula Wagner, graciously congratulated the film's success. Cruise himself had neither clashed openly with Daenerys like Levinson nor spoken recklessly like Hoffman, leaving him relatively unscathed in the storm.
With Rain Man and Dead Poets Society cementing their triumphs, Hollywood awoke to a realization: of Daenerys's seven 1988 releases, When Harry Met Sally, Rain Man, and Dead Poets Society were not written by Simon. Even Scream, though reportedly his concept, carried no writing credit.
From Run Lola Run onward, through The Butterfly Effect, Final Destination, Pulp Fiction an impression had formed that Daenerys rested entirely on Simon's personal genius.
That perception had eased acquisition of projects like The Bodyguard and Big even after Pulp Fiction's summer success.
Now the industry saw clearly: Simon Westeros's eye for movie's rivaled his talent for creating it.
Daenerys's large library of optioned properties was common knowledge; many outlets had once mocked the spending spree.
Titles already secured were now nearly impossible to pry away, but every project Daenerys had expressed interest in yet failed to land instantly became the focus of intense Hollywood attention.